


You shouldn't be alone

by EllieWan



Series: Sweetie Pie (Ace/Thermite) [5]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27393496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieWan/pseuds/EllieWan
Summary: After updating their contract with Rainbow, Nighthaven operators have to undergo the SAS resistance to interrogation test.Ace has a hard time recovering emotionally from it, and Thermite helps.
Relationships: Håvard "Ace" Haugland/Jordan "Thermite" Trace
Series: Sweetie Pie (Ace/Thermite) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985390
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	You shouldn't be alone

**Author's Note:**

> Back to some good ol' one-shots :) Feels good not to be in a hurry for Siegetober anymore.  
> I'm exploring various aspects of this ship and this came out. I hope you'll like it.  
> \+ Sorry for any mistake / weird phrasing.

Håvard was wandering the corridors like a ghost, staring into the void, pale and completely apathetic. He headed for his dorm, where he knew he’d be alone. He had his cell phone in one hand, but he couldn't give it more than two minutes of attention, his mind exhausted from everything. He didn't want anything, and didn't even feel like posting anything on his social media profiles.

He pushed open his dormitory door, letting it slam shut behind him and sat down on his bed, throwing his cell phone on the pillow. He took his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. _He shouldn’t stay alone._ He knew that. He had been told not to stay alone. But still, he couldn't find the strength to call anyone, to tell them, and... he didn't even want to talk about it. At least he had succeeded, he was telling himself, and that was the only comfort he could find to keep himself from going under.

But it had been hellish, awful, dreadful. Håvard had already passed a test of resistance to torture in the past, when he had joined the Norwegian Special Forces commando, but it was nothing compared to the long and enduring SAS resistance to interrogation test he had just undergone. And it had only lasted two weeks; at least, that's what he had been told when he finally got out, for he had completely lost track of time. He had the impression that he had lost months of his life there, the sleep deprivation having completely blurred his perception of time, and in addition to hunger, thirst, physical and emotional torture...

When Kali told him that she had updated the contract with Rainbow to access more resources from them, but that in return Rainbow had demanded that they submitted the blueprints of their gadgets and Nighthaven operators to additional aptitude tests... He had mostly seen the positive side of it: working closely with Rainbow, finally being able to let Mira and... _Thermite_ take a closer look at his gadget. He had thought that the interrogation would be a bad time, but not such an ordeal. A turning point. He felt that now his life would never be the same again. Even though he was perhaps more prepared for the worst, now...

He sighed, passing a hand on his neck. He just didn't feel like doing anything. Even days later, and even after spending a long night with the help of painkillers, he was still exhausted. It's just that his body was... down. Closed. His mind off. He was thinking about what Thatcher, Montagne and Harry had told him. Not to be alone. Spending time with people was one of the healthiest reconnections to reality. It helped you to regain some semblance of routine, habits, markers, and gradually a proper reconnection to life as it used to be. But Kali had decided to spend this time in the arms of her lover, and so had Wamai. And Ace... Ace had pretended that he would spend time with Bandit, or Smoke, his partners in crime. But to tell the truth, he didn't dare to go see them. He didn't even dare to go see _Jordan_. He felt like a burden, like an empty shell walking around, and he didn't want that. He didn't want people to see him like that.

He picked up his phone and looked at the statistics of his social network posts for the umpteenth time. Every once in a while, he almost felt something while reading a few worried messages from his regular followers, who were alarmed not to see any activity on his accounts for the past two weeks. But by the time he almost felt like writing a message full of forced joy, to say that he was fine, or just tweeting something stupid, just… something; he didn’t see the point anymore. He put his phone back on his pillow and resumed his boredom session. Maybe he should just watch a movie on his laptop? A little voice was telling him to call his mother, but he was more afraid of scaring her than anything else. He had just found the strength to send her a message that he was okay and that he would call her as soon as he could when he got out of the interrogation, and _of course he had lied_ , but how to tell her?

There was a knock on the door of his dormitory, and he started. He waited for the person to come in, or announce themselves, but there was not a sound, and Håvard sighed, convinced that it was one of those damn post-traumatic stress side effects, his imagination playing tricks on him.

But he heard knocking again, and he managed to utter:

"Who is it?"

"It's Jordan.”

Håvard's heart stopped. Jordan? Here? Why was he coming to see him? Did someone tell him to come and see him? Jordan never came to his dorm, except to complain when Håvard had again put sticky notes all over his locker or pranked him with Bandit or Smoke.

"Can I come in?” Jordan asked when there was no answer.

Honestly, Håvard would have been thrilled to have Jordan in his dormitory under any other circumstances, but right now... he didn't want him to see him like this.

"N-No" he stammered, hoping Jordan wouldn't be too angry with him.

"Are you naked?" Jordan asked back.

“What?" Håvard replied. “No, why-"

"Then I’m coming in.”

"Jord-!”

Jordan entered despite Håvard's disapproval, and Håvard couldn't help but smile slightly, even if he sighed:

"Sweetie pie..."

But Jordan didn't seem to be in a laughing mood. He looked worried, sincerely, his dark eyebrows arching with concern, and his gray eyes planted on him.

"What are you doing all alone?" he asked.

"Oh you know, nothing special. I'm tweeting stuff, having fun on Tik Tok and yeah..."

"You haven't tweeted anything since you... came back.”

"I didn't know you were following me, sweetie pie." Håvard mumbled with a light smile.

Jordan came closer, the door closing behind him. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his sports shorts and stood in front of Håvard.

"You shouldn't be alone." He whispered to him.

"So I've been told, but I'll be okay.”

"And didn't they tell you that's what you were going to say?”

Håvard had a disheartened laugh:

"Yes. Yes, they did tell me that as well.”

Jordan sighed and grabbed his wrist. And Håvard's heart started beating fast at that touch.

"Come on.”

"Where?”

"I don't know, let's grab a coffee and watch something in the break room? Don't forget that we managed to negotiate a Netflix subscription.”

Håvard's heart gradually warmed, but a shadow soon came over the premises of his joy.

"You don't have to do this, Jordan, you know. You really don't.”

"I don't feel forced to. Now come on.”

Jordan pulled him by the wrist until Håvard stood up. Jordan bent down to retrieve the cell phone on the pillow and handed it to him:

"You're going to need your inhaler." Jordan joked.

“Am I?” Håvard mumbled.

"See? You really need some good coffee and entertainment.” Jordan chuckled “ _Håvard_ was willing to leave his cell phone in his dormitory?”

Håvard just smiled and let himself be dragged down the hallway. Jordan reassured him again, explaining that he had finished his tasks for the day and didn't feel forced to spend time with him, that he even enjoyed it, and despite all the apathy that was plaguing Håvard's morale, he couldn't help but get a few butterflies in his stomach when he heard that. Jordan made him sit at a table in the cafeteria while he went to get them some coffee. Håvard took the opportunity to pull out his cell phone, in a reflex, and he was surprised to get his first idea of a tweet for the first since the event.

_When you're not ok, but tell them you are, and they still look after you because they kno you lie <3_

But it was too cheesy. And he and Jordan weren't even a couple, at best they were flirting, even though Jordan was still quite an Antarctic of feelings. Or not really Antarctic, maybe super southern America? Let's say he was less cold, less icy than in the early days, and warming up... maybe he was more like the fjords near his native village then? Håvard got lost in his thoughts and Jordan anchored him back to reality, when he put a mug in his hands. Håvard closed his hands around the hot cup and was surprised by the light color of the coffee:

"What's in there?"

"Nothing too crazy. Coffee with milk, vanilla syrup and sugar. Like those things you love at the coffee shop downtown.”

Håvard pinched his lips. He was touched. Thousands of things were going through his mind: _So you noticed? And you remembered? Since when do we have vanilla syrup, at the base? I didn't know you cared? …Do you?_

"Thank you.” He just said instead.

"I would have added the whipped cream and everything, but you know me, right? As soon as you have to make something other than an omelet with eggs, I'm lost.”

"There’s no egg in whipped cream, Jordan” Håvard chuckled.

"What? Don't they have those egg whites or something?"

Håvard shook his head, amused:

"No, whipped cream is just cream that is whipped. That's why it's called whipped cream.”

Jordan looked at him circumspectly, eyebrows raised:

"And I'm learning this at 35 years old. Yup, that’s fine.”

Håvard laughed again.

"And if you put a lot of sugar in it, it turns into Chantilly cream."

"My, my. _Chantilly_. You grew up way too close to the French.”

And Håvard laughed some more. It was starting to make a lot of laughs in a few minutes, it seemed that he perhaps wasn’t the only funny one of the pair.

"Come on, let's watch something on the TV.”

Jordan guided him to the rest room which was empty. At this time of the day many operators were still outside doing activities or training. Jordan turned on the light of the room and closed the door behind them. He let Håvard sit on the couch and pushed the coffee table slightly closer to them with his foot, so they could put their cups down if needed.

Jordan then came and sat down next to him and grabbed the remote control.

"Do you have something in mind? Like a movie you like or something?” Jordan asked.

Håvard shrugged, so Jordan offered:

"Well, there's that cooking show that Julien and Gilles are addicted to, _Crazy Delicious_. If French people are watching this, that's a good sign, isn't it?”

"You can put it on, then" Håvard mumbled with a smile.

_A few minutes later..._

"I don't get it. Is that baked egg white?”

"This is _meringue_ , sweetie pie.”

"And it’s baked egg white?”

"Yes."

Jordan shook his head and passed a hand over his face:

"I'm questioning 35 years of food" he muttered.

"You’ve never wondered what you’ve been eating?” Håvard chuckled.

"No, not really. I just eat, and if I like it… I eat some more of it? That's all.”

Håvard laughed and poked Jordan's cheek:

"I'm not even surprised to hear that, Mr. Barbecue.”

"I'm just an average Texan guy, you know." Jordan joked back.

Håvard turned his head towards Jordan and gazed at him. Jordan raised an eyebrow, visibly not understanding that Håvard was simply looking at him with loving eyes:

"What's wrong?”

"N-Nothing.”

"Do you want me to go make you another latte thing?”

"Oh no, don't worry, thank you, just… stay... we're having fun.”

Jordan relaxed and sat back in, retrieving a cushion and placed it behind his back. Håvard smiled and wondered if the dream would end the next day. How much of Jordan’s attitude was sincerity and how much was pity? Håvard sighed and looked back at the TV. Either way, it wasn't unpleasant and his heart was warming up. He even let himself close his eyes, lulled by the TV and Jordan's bewildered comments in front of the candidates' culinary creations. And then, little by little, he felt himself dozing off, the sounds gradually fading away. He was tired but calm, not afraid to fall asleep, not afraid to be woken up by a violent bucket of ice water or kicks in the ribs. He was just fine, almost euphoric, and he fell asleep.

He woke up some time later to a weird noise. He noticed that the TV was stuck on a black screen, with a small message from Netflix asking if they were still active and watching the program. He heard the noise again and realized that it was snoring, right behind him. As he tried to sit up, he realized that he was being held by a pair of crossed arms over his chest, holding him against a warm body. A pair of arms with burn marks and scars...

He hadn’t realized it sooner, but he had fallen asleep against Jordan, and somehow he was now lying on the couch, his back against Jordan's chest, the rest of his body almost between Jordan's legs, one of which was hanging from the couch. And Jordan was fast asleep, head backwards, mouth slightly ajar, his position probably explaining his snoring. Håvard wanted to stand up, a little embarrassed by the position, although pleasant. But Jordan's arms tightened around him and his snoring stopped:

" _Hmmm stay.._.” Jordan mumbled.

"You snore, sweetie pie.”

"Hmmm." Jordan grumbled, turning slightly to his side and rotating Håvard with him. He repositioned himself and Jordan seemed satisfied only when he was literally _spooning_ Håvard. And he seemed to fall back asleep almost instantly, considering the slow, steady pace of his breathing. Håvard smiled a little, but he, too, was still tired. And curled up in those warm, protective arms, he quickly went back to sleep thinking of another tweet:

_When you've been dreaming of spooning your sweetie pie, but they spooned you first <3_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it.  
> Lemme know :]


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